


24 Times

by Luisa1804



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Advent Calender, Advent Calender 2018, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Credence Barebone Deserves Better, Credence Barebone Gets a Hug, Credence Barebone Needs a Hug, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Living in Newt Scamander's Suitcase, More tags to be added, Obscurial Credence Barebone, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-01
Updated: 2018-12-02
Packaged: 2019-09-05 07:50:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16806469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luisa1804/pseuds/Luisa1804
Summary: 24 Mini-Storys with Newt and Credence leading up to Christmas.Fluff, Hurt, Comfort and saving all the beasts they can find.





	1. Home

**Author's Note:**

> So, I don't know if this is still a thing but 5 years ago in the german fanfic world it certainly was, so -
> 
> Here you have 24 related chapters about Newt, Credence, the suitcase and their beasts leading up to Christmas. Each day is inspired by a single word from my old challenges (yes, the german one from 5 years ago). Spoiler: the whole thing ends with the prompt "Christmas Eve", so it's gonna get more christmas-y as we go along.
> 
> Enjoy and cry about Crewt with me :D

_Day 1: Home_

For most of his life the church in which he lived with Ma and Modesty and Chastity had been the only place he had known. He had slept there, ate there, received his punishments there, but — he had never considered it _home_. 

It was the only place he could go to if he didn't want to sleep under the bridge and starve. But it was also the center of his pain; the stairs where his Ma beat him with his belt, the stove where Ma had burned his hands, the little dent in the wall from his skull — well. There was certainly never anything homelike in the church for Credence.

He had thought it would stay that way forever. Even when he had reached his legal age, he had never even thought about — about _moving out_. Where would he go? He had learned nothing but handing out leaflets and wasn't even very good in that if his Ma had anything to say about it. So it was the same as always: the bridge or the church.

But then - 

Credence had to smile. Also something new: he didn't think he had ever smiled before.

He still wasn't sure where his home was, exactly, even if he was sure he had one now. Mr. Scamander never stayed in one place for a long time; they were traveling more in one month than Credence had thought possible in a lifetime.

Where animals and beasts needed his help Mr. Scamander would go; whether it was a rumor of a smuggle ring, an endangered species that was discovered or one of his beasts that was well enough again to be released into the wilderness. Mr. Scamander was always on the move, always had a new amazing destination to go to.

He seemed to consider England as his home country and he had an apartment there to which they always returned, but Credence had never been there for more than two weeks at a time.

While traveling they lived on ships and in trains and Mr. Scamander always booked a hotel or hostel for them if they stayed somewhere overnight. 

But, really, the one constant that there was in living with Mr. Scamander was his suitcase. And inside his suitcase was a whole world, after all, and Mr. Scamander had even created a new room in his cabin just for Credence.

So his home: _a suitcase?_

__

__

_Crazy!,_ as Mr. Kowalski would surely say. 

But well, it was a special suitcase and not just because it was bigger on the inside or held over 100 magical beasts inside, even if this part was pretty amazing too.

No, the suitcase was something special because it was everything the church hadn't been: a safe space without pain or bad memories; a space where he didn't have to be afraid. He had friends here: the Niffler who always chirped happily when Credence past him and slipped him a new coin, the Bowtuckles who liked to climb all over him to make Pickett jealous, the Demiguse who liked to hug him, the Mooncalves who always screamed with joy when Credence brought them their food and then crowded around his legs, so he couldn't leave -

And even Mr. Scamander himself, who was always kind to Credence and always smiled at him; who Credence knew would never, ever hit him, no matter what he did. Mr. Scamander who took him in when he had nowhere to go after _the incident_ in the subway and who had fought for him in the magical ministry with Mrs Goldsteins help, so that Credence may live without being hunted down by them -

“What do think about the Netherlands?”, asks Mr. Scamander from his place on the kitchen table, a letter in one hand and a cup of tea in the other.

Credence looks up from where he's preparing the food for the Tebos.

“What's there?”, he asks and still takes a single precious second to marvel at the ease he feels around Mr. Scamander to just ask these things.

“It's rumored that there are a few wizards who are making illegal potions with Lobalug poison. I wouldn't think them to be very cautions of the poor creatures limits.”, Mr. Scamander frowns, troubled as he always is when thinking about a creature in the hands of unkind humans.

“What _is_ a Lubalug, Mr. Scamander?”, Credence asked, ever curious about all the different magical beasts. He is pretty sure that there isn't one in the suitcase right now.

“Newt”, Mr. Scamander corrects him as he always does. But there are somethings from Mary-Lou that Credence hasn't forgot and absolute politeness towards his betters is one of them. “They live in the North Sea, you see, and when they feel threatened they release a highly potent poison. It's pretty high sought after in some more — let's say: shady parts of magical businesses.”

“The Netherlands than”, Credence says and Mr. Scamander smiles brightly.

“I'll ready everything for the trip”, he says and he's gone before Credence can blink.

Tomorrow his home will be in the Netherlands then; it is always wherever Mr. Scamander will take them next on his adventures and Credence is pretty happy with that.


	2. Gray

_Day 2: Gray_

Mr. Scamander had told him that an Obscurus looks like black swirling mist; a moving black cloud stretching and pulling in all directions. He had even showed him the Obscurial inside his suitcase; the little Sudanese girl who had died when Mr. Scamander had tried to help her, and he'd been perfectly right.

But all Credence could see right now was gray. It was as if all colour had been whipped from his world, even black and white.

He had never found the right words to describe to Mr Scamander what it was like to be an Obscurial. He was nowhere and everywhere all at once, could see every speck of dust in every corner and yet focus on nothing at all.

But one thing he was sure about: he knew exactly what he was doing. Back in New York he had been aware, yes; it would be a lie to say that he didn't notice the destruction he had wrought, but everything had been a haze; his mind only processing what was done when it was already too late.

But here, right now? The man's scared faces shone brightly in his scattered minds eye, and he knew exactly where they were, where they went in their desperate attempt at escape. He didn't need colour for that.

He knew exactly what he was doing when he smashed against the ceiling in front of the only door and let the brick and stones rumble down, barricading the only exit.

He was perfectly aware of Mr. Scamanders unconscious form tied to a chair with heavy ropes, blood running down his temple. He was aware of the slight twitches running through him; aftermath of the spells these man had put him under.

And the day had started out so nicely, too. Mr. Scamander had brought them directly to the ocean where the smugglers would most likely be hiding with easy access to the Lubalugs.

He had promised Credence a tour of Amsterdam, Netherlands capital city, because he had thought that Credence would enjoy it. He had called it "the city above water" with a wink and a chuckle and Credence had been intrigued.

But even the coast had been stunningly beautiful; water that never seemed to end, sand as far as he could look, shells beneath his shoes and the sound of waves in his ears. Credence had never been to a beach before and it was so much more beautiful than anything he had dreamed about. 

_When the Lubalugs are safe_ , he had thought, _I will ask Mr. Scamander to stay here for a day._

But, of course, things hadn't been quite as easy and instead of a little group of money-hungry witches and wizards selling Lubalug poison on the black market they had been meet with a dozen of wizards, wands ready and nasty smiles on their face.

Mr. Scamander had tried to fight back of course; had grasped Credence and tried to protect him with his own body. But they had been unprepared and outnumbered. Two red lights and everything went black.

Waking up had been unpleasant; his body tied to a hard chair, his neck at an unnatural angle. The rope had cut into the skin of his wrists and brought back unpleasant memories and the one around his chest nearly made him stop breathing.

Back in the church he often had to pretend to be asleep so that Mary-Lou would not notice that he had been out of bed to comfort Modesty after a nightmare. As such it was nearly easy for him to keep his breath steady and look at his surroundings from beneath his eyelashes.

Mr. Scamander was in a chair similar to his on the other side of the room. From where he was sitting he could see four people in black robes, wands in their hands. They all looked exited, shifting on their feet in expectation, waiting. One of them pointed their wand at Mr. Scamander.

A bright light hit Mr. Scamander square in the chest; his eyes opened unseeing and his body arched of the chair as far as it could go. Credence didn't even think that Mr. Scamander was fully conscious, but he screamed nonetheless. It sounded hoarse.

The ropes couldn't hold an Obscurus. The black mist wriggled out of the ropes with ease and Credence saw gray.

They were pleading with him, cursing him, screaming at him. Credence wanted them all dead for daring to hurt Mr. Scamander; the kindest man there was, the man who took him in when he had been all alone and who had given him a purpose, friends, a home. 

Credence screamed and the Obscurus got bigger, lashing out at them, wanting to _kill_ -

Credence looked at Newt. 

He held back.

\--

When he woke up next it was because someone shook his shoulder hard enough to make his teeth rattle.

He had a moment of panic; of _oh god, i overslept, the leaflets — ma is going to kill me -_

“Credence!”

Mr. Scamanders voice made him gasp for air. His eyes opened to find Mr. Scamanders face inches away from his, eyes worried and hands on his shoulders.

He sat back, hands leaving Credence´ shoulders when Credence blinked up at him. 

“I'm sorry”, Mr. Scamander said, sounding flustered and waving his hands through the air, “for the rough waking. But I fear we don't have much time.”

Credence sat up slowly, his head still fuzzy and looked around. He was still in the same room, but it had changed drastically from when he had first woken up.

Half the ceiling near the front door had collapsed, scattering dust and rubble all over the room. One wall had a huge hole. The wizards lay all over the floor; none of them moved.

Credence hardly noticed Mr. Scamanders hand on his arm, holding him upright. “Are they dead?”, he asked.

“No”, Mr. Scamander answered, voice soft. “Merely unconscious."

Credence nodded. “I wanted them to die. But I thought you might not agree with that”, he said than and didn't know where this honesty was coming from.

Mr. Scamander looked at him, emotions passing too fast over his face for Credence to read. 

“They hurt you”, he added.

Mr. Scamanders face settled on something soft, and he nodded. “They did.” Credence thought he might cry, and he wasn't even exactly sure why.

Mr. Scamander took a deep breath and his hold on Credence arm grew tighter. “We need to leave”, he said and nodded toward the unconscious people on the floor, “These are Grindelwalds people.”

A few pieces fell into place. “Oh”, Credence said, weakly and was thankful for Mr. Scamanders support. His legs felt rather wobbly.

“There must have been a leak in the ministry”, Mr. Scamander babbled as he always did when nervous, "As there always is. That we traveled together was supposed to say a secret for a reason -”

He turned to look at Credence. “Never mind that now. I'm going to apparate us back to the beach, alright? I hope they left my suitcase there.”

Credence nodded, feeling slightly numb. They had targeted Mr. Scamander because of him; hurt him because of Credence; because he was giving Credence a home and because Grindelwald wanted Credence and his Obscurus for himself.

And they wouldn't stop.


End file.
